


holding to the ground as the ground keeps shifting

by svitzian



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: ??? maybe ???, Also a little bit, Concussions, Gen, Hurt Ahsoka Tano, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Kidnapping, Suspension, Whumptober 2020, a little bit, also, but it didnt come out very whumpy, grandmaster grandpadawan bonding, i dont like this fic but i am posting it anyways, i picture this as right after tcw movie, i used a whumptober prompt to come up w this, in the least favorable circumstances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:42:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26763022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/svitzian/pseuds/svitzian
Summary: Obi-Wan gets himself captured, intentionally.Ahsoka also gets captured, unintentionally. This complicates things.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 5
Kudos: 191





	holding to the ground as the ground keeps shifting

**Author's Note:**

> this fic makes very little sense. i'm sorry. i have decided to post it anyways because i have nothing better to do with it and maybe (?) someone out there will enjoy it. ignore any and all plot holes  
> also i wanted to say that this started out from the day 1 prompt of whumptober but in my opinion it didn't end up super whump-y (mostly because i got tired and also am bad at writing)  
> anyways i hope you enjoy :)

To say that things had gone according to plan wasn’t a complete lie. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the complete truth, either.

Of course, the _plan_ hadn’t been a favorable one from the outset—but it was the only viable option they’d had, and as such, Obi-Wan had been willing to go forward. Such was his duty, after all, and really, he had a feeling that things wouldn’t be so bad in the end.

Never before had one of Obi-Wan’s feelings been so utterly and completely _wrong._

Naturally, he _did_ feel rather bad upon waking. His arms ached, his wrists _throbbed,_ something digging into the flesh there, and his head was pulsing with an ugly headache, likely from the rather uncomfortable manner in which he’d been knocked unconscious. The reinforced metal of a droid’s fist encountering one’s skull is not a pleasant experience, yet for _this_ mission, for what was at stake, it was an experience he was willing to endure.

All that was to say, of course, that physically, he felt quite terrible. His feet were not touching the ground, his sore arms were strung up above him, connected to _something_ metal, though what, Obi-Wan couldn’t quite make out—a pipe, maybe. It was hard to tell in the darkness— _darkness,_ a far departure from the bright, grassy plain on which today’s battle had been fought, the plain in which he’d been bested by a small force of five battle droids that had just so happened to catch him off guard.

He had then been knocked unconscious, captured, brought to _this_ place, which was undoubtedly the most secure Separatist hideout in the area, shackled and strung up to await what would most likely be a lovely combination of interrogation and torture. Recounting such events, despite the pain in his arms, his wrists, his head, Obi-Wan smiled.

_Perfect._

Everything, it seemed, was going to plan.

That was, until he blinked again, willing his eyes to adjust a bit more to the darkness, just making out the shadow of a figure a few feet away from him, and his heart dropped. _Oh, no._

To her credit, Ahsoka smiled, weary and exhausted as she appeared to be—that same uncannily calm smile Anakin shot him whenever they got themselves into trouble and he wanted to reassure his old master. _Has he taught her that, too?_ Possibly—or possibly that droid had hit him a bit harder than expected.

“Good morning, Master Kenobi.”

No, that was Ahsoka’s voice, chipper and calm against all odds—which meant that _Ahsoka_ really was just a few feet away from him, hanging, just as he was, from what looked to be a pole just below the ceiling of this room, her wrists shackled and feet hanging even higher off the ground than his own, a reminder of how small she was, how even though she bravely led troopers into the heat of battle, she was still only a padawan, his _grandpadawan—_

_His grandpadawan,_ captured just the same as he was. That had _not_ been part of the plan _,_ and for all that he usually held his emotions neatly in check, Obi-Wan wasn’t sure he could’ve released what he felt now into the Force if he’d tried.

“Ahsoka,” he said, carefully— _don’t frighten her more,_ he thought, and while she hadn’t _seemed_ frightened, Obi-Wan knew well what sorts of emotions could be hidden behind that sort of bravado. “What are you doing here?”

_There—_ barely noticeable, but the slightest crack in Ahsoka’s brave face, the slightest glint of something like fear, uncertainty, shining in her eyes, and Obi-Wan’s heart twisted again. _No, no, no._

“Well,” Ahsoka began, and this time, her smile was wearier, one that would’ve been accompanied with a shrug— _so like Anakin—_ if her arms weren’t stressed enough already, if it were possible in this _awful_ position—“Same as you, Master.”

Despite his quickly mounting worry, Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. “ _I_ am here as a lure, so that Anakin and the troops can find this location.” He would get himself captured, and as a top-priority prisoner, he would be brought to the most secure Separatist site on the planet—a site which he would then guide Anakin to through the use of their overgrown training bond, a secret weapon that had already come in handy more than a few times in this blasted war. Ahsoka, of course, was well aware of this plan— _and,_ he hoped, well aware of the fact that she was supposed to have absolutely no part of it, aside from perhaps assisting Anakin and the troopers in their ‘rescue’ and the ensuing raid of the area. Her being here… well, it complicated things in a manner that made Obi-Wan’s stomach turn with worry.

Whereas Ahsoka seemed to have a grip on hiding her own worries just moments before, now, Obi-Wan saw it _truly_ began to slip. “Well… maybe I’m here a little more… _accidentally_.” She was trying for lightness, for the banter that she had no doubt watched him and Anakin exchange effortlessly even in the most trying scenarios—but that kind of indifference to danger came from lots and lots of practice, something which his grandpadawan hadn’t yet had, _thank the stars,_ though the comfort of that thought made it no less difficult to hear the slightest waver to her voice.

_Force,_ this was bad.

The twisting of Obi-Wan’s heart had somehow been consuming enough to distract from the physical pain of his body, but now, looking at Ahsoka, he felt too aware of _that,_ too—she’d likely been strung up as long as he had, and though she was far less heavy than he was, _he_ , unfortunately, had been in this situation before. She hadn’t.

“How is your head, Ahsoka?” It was only years of practice that kept Obi-Wan’s overwhelming worry from his voice, allowed him to utilize that rehearsed calm that kept his panic from showing.

“Fine.”

That bravado again, and stars, Obi-Wan would’ve been proud, were he not so kriffing _worried._ “Ahsoka.”

This time, no response, and that twisting feeling in Obi-Wan’s chest swelled.

“Padawan.” Obi-Wan’s voice was gentle but firm, and he swallowed hard. “I know what you are trying to do. It’s a very noble thing, to put on a brave face, but it will do us no good right now. If we want this to go smoothly, we must be honest with one another, and tell each other everything.” It hurt to be so direct, when all he wanted was to hold his grandpadawan tight, to take her far, far away from this danger—but they didn’t have time to linger on wishes like that, and Obi-Wan could not delay what was truly important, not when doing so would only put Ahsoka at risk of further injury.

There was a brief silence, Ahsoka tilting her head to the side some, out of the light, and then, quiet—“It hurts, Master.”

Obi-Wan breathed out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and in its place, emotion came pouring in. His grandpadawan. _His grandpadawan._ She never should’ve been in a place like this, never should’ve been _hurting_ like this, never should’ve been in a _war_ like this—

“Thank you for your honesty, Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan managed, striving for at least a glimmer of lightness in his tone, and when he fell flat, he swallowed instead. _Right._ Better to handle the situation first, and then he could devote himself to assuaging his worries. “Do you feel nauseous?”

“What?” She was caught off-guard, clearly, assuming that nausea should have been the least of their concerns. Obi-Wan had to mourn her innocence.

“ _Nauseous,_ Padawan,” Obi-Wan stressed, and pressed his lips together as he studied her once again, wondering how she could possibly look so _small—_ “Do you feel as though you’re going to be sick?”

Ahsoka met his gaze in the darkness for one beat, and then shook her head—or, well, shook her head as much as she could in the discomfort of her position. “No, Master.”

Obi-Wan breathed a little easier, but he wasn’t done yet. “What about your ears? Is there any ringing?”

His grandpadawan didn’t seem any less puzzled by the line of questioning, but she answered more quickly this time. “No. I can hear you fine.”

“Good. I know the lighting isn’t the best, but can you see me clearly? Is anything at all blurry to you?”

“I can _see_ fine, too,” Ahsoka said, a bit shorter than before, her tone a bit sharp—the tone of a padawan with no more patience to spare, and a tone that Obi-Wan was, unfortunately, intimately familiar with. “Why are you asking me all that? They just knocked me out, same as you.”

Again that guilt rose in Obi-Wan’s chest, and again, he tried his hardest to push it down. That could be handled later. “I need to assess you for a concussion, Ahsoka.”

Ahsoka blinked, taking that in, and then frowned. “Shouldn’t we be a little more concerned with getting _down_ from here?”  
  
She wasn’t wrong—but she wasn’t usually so brash, either. This was affecting her already, and the knotted mess that Obi-Wan’s heart had become tightened. _Please, let the rest of this day go according to plan._

“Our captors could walk in at any moment. If you _are_ concussed, though it doesn’t seem you are, I need to be aware of that first, so that I can draw their attention from you.” Luckily, from all signs, she really didn’t appear to be harboring a concussion—and of course, Obi-Wan would’ve done anything to keep any attention off Ahsoka, concussed or not, but right now, clinging to the usual logic with which he would solve a situation like this brought him some comfort.

Ahsoka, _Force bless her,_ seemed to accept that reasoning, though the frown on her lips remained as she studied him, shifting uncomfortably as though that would alleviate any of the pressure from her wrists. “I don’t see any captors around here.”

A glance around confirmed Ahsoka’s comment—nobody at all seemed to be around, aside from one B1-series droid set off to the corner, who didn’t seem to be paying much attention to the objects of its guard duty at all. Odd, from Obi-Wan’s experience, to wake as a captive without someone ready and waiting to taunt him—but in this case, it came as a relief. If there was nobody waiting around to torture them, that meant that they were occupied with something more important—and there was only one thing that could possibly be more important than two Jedi captives.

Ahsoka met Obi-Wan’s gaze, and he watched as the realization hit her, too, just a moment after it had come to him.

“He’s already here.”

Despite himself, despite his worries, Obi-Wan smiled—a _real_ smile, not a falsely comforting one, but one of real, genuine relief. If Anakin was here, that meant that the rest of the plan was coming to fruition—and, with any luck, meant that he and Ahsoka would be out of here sooner than later.

“Yes, well,” Obi-Wan mused, the lightness in his voice more natural, “I have a feeling your accidental capture served to motivate him further.”

He’d meant it mainly as a joke, an attempt to draw a smile from Ahsoka, to reassure her that everything truly would be okay. Instead, she seemed rather unsure of how to react to the comment at all, and only a moment later did Obi-Wan realize why. He hadn’t _meant_ to imply attachment, of course, that cursed word that every padawan in the Order was warned against—though it seemed that naturally, that was what Ahsoka had picked up on.

“Much as his capture would to me, I imagine,” Obi-Wan added after a moment—a _rare_ admission, and one that was perhaps improper of a Jedi, but he knew what it was to be a master, to fear for the life of your padawan, the child that you had helped to raise. Oh, he knew that feeling _far_ too well—and now, he imagined, _his_ padawan did as well.

Mentally, he noted for himself to check in on Anakin later, once this mess was resolved. If Obi-Wan knew his former padawan at all… he’d not be handling it very well.

Ahsoka, though, seemed to take Obi-Wan’s admission as a small encouragement, a slip of a smile on her lips, and Obi-Wan seized that glimpse of her usual self while he could.

“In any case, I am rather tired of staying up here.” His voice was crisp, but he meant that sentiment with every bit of him—how long they’d been unconscious, he still wasn’t sure, but too long in a position like this would leave them both with nerve damage that would make fighting with a lightsaber impossible. They were lucky that much time hadn’t passed already, but— _best not to entertain that thought._

“Me too,” Ahsoka stated, a decisiveness in her voice that was a welcome familiarity to Obi-Wan. “So how do we get down?”

Obi-Wan smiled as best as he could, ignoring the pain in his arms, the residual ache in his head. “I’ve got that handled. Ready to fall, little one?”

Ahsoka met his grin. “Ready.”

The pounding in his head had subsided some, which was a welcome relief, making it a bit easier to tap into the Force than it would’ve been otherwise—though naturally, the aching pain in his arms presented its own challenge. Obi-Wan, however, was a Jedi, and he had learned long ago to push aside physical discomfort, to retreat into that part of himself that would always be there, that nobody could take away. He felt a pulse against his own, faint but familiar, a sensation he would be able to place no matter the circumstances— _Anakin,_ with that undercurrent of worry that he was just as familiar with, and Obi-Wan allowed himself a moment to send a small reassurance his way before he refocused on the task at hand, on the shackles keeping his grandpadawan held to the ceiling. With his eyes closed, face a picture of serene concentration, he committed himself to that one singular task, willing more space into those cuffs, feeling for the lock, thinking of the key, willing them to _open_ —and when he heard the soft sound of Ahsoka landing ( _gracefully_ , despite it all) on the ground, he smiled, eyes flickering open and a new wave of exhaustion hitting him as his vision swam.

Ah. Perhaps the physical pain was affecting him a bit more than he would’ve liked to admit.

“Thanks, Master,” Ahsoka chirped, and when Obi-Wan’s vision focused a bit more, he looked down to see her rubbing her wrists some, a blur of tan moving in the background. No doubt they were sore, as were her arms, and the headache from being knocked unconscious hadn’t gone away yet, either—he’d have her checked by a medic as soon as Anakin and his men arrived. Yes, that would be best—get her checked out, and then—

“—Master?” Ahsoka’s voice was quieter now, and Obi-Wan blinked to see that her expression had fallen to a frown, and that the battle droid from before was now lying in two distinct pieces on the floor—when had _that_ happened? How had he missed that? “Are you coming down?”

_Right._ That small order of business—another exertion in the Force, one which would’ve been simple were it merely himself he needed to let down, but… well, when had things ever gone to plan?

“Of course,” Obi-Wan replied, as crisply as he could—and reached into that well within himself again, only to find the effort _far_ more laborious than before. Stars, his own pain hadn’t distracted him from the Force in _years_. Had he really slipped up so much? He grit his teeth, closed his eyes, and doubled down in his efforts, ignoring the screeching pain it brought to his head—he _could_ do this, he _could,_ even if it hurt just a bit more, and he fought to keep the strain from slipping into his voice as he spoke. “Apologies. I was just catching my breath, Padawan.”

With his eyes closed, he couldn’t see Ahsoka, but he felt a ripple of disapproval through the Force clear as day, even through his straining efforts to access it.

“Let me help you.”

_That_ had Obi-Wan opening his eyes, and he frowned sternly, shaking his head as he watched her reach out in the way the younger padawans so often did when calling on the Force. “No.” This time, he didn’t have to fight to keep his voice firm—it came naturally, because there was no way in the seven hells that he was going to let her exhaust herself, not when he still hadn’t gotten a chance to fully assess her injuries. If anyone was coming out of this Force-exhausted, it was not going to be his grandpadawan. Obi-Wan would do whatever it took to ensure that. “I’ll be just fine, Ahsoka. I only need a moment.”

This time he could see Ahsoka’s frown deepen, just as he saw the sharpness in her gaze as she met his eyes unflinchingly. “I thought you said we had to be honest,” she stated, her voice crisp and cool and stern, “and tell each other everything.”

Were he not exhausted and incredibly wary of where this line of conversation would leave them, Obi-Wan would’ve been proud. Using his own words against him—perhaps his grandpadawan would be a champion of negotiation after all. Anakin would certainly be bewildered.

He hadn’t realized that he’d failed to respond to Ahsoka, lost in his thoughts once more, until suddenly she was moving forward, blurring in his vision, and suddenly he snapped back to awareness, shaking his head while his arms and shoulders cried out in protest. “Ahsoka, don’t—”

“Too late, Master,” Ahsoka countered quickly, in a tone that made it clear that she was not at all apologetic for what she was about to do. “Get ready to fall.”

“ _Ahsoka—”_

“Are you ready?”

He was beaten. Obi-Wan took a deep breath and sent a small hope into the Force that this small effort wouldn’t wind Ahsoka like it had done to him.

“—ready, Padawan.”

A creak of the shackles above his head was his warning, and Obi-Wan used it to the best of his ability, taking that one brief moment to cushion his landing with the Force—and for the most part, his effort worked. He landed, and his joints cried out, but his arms were _blessedly_ relieved of their tension, and with hands he hadn’t realized were shaking, he reached to hold his own wrists, ignoring the reddened flesh there, flesh that would no doubt grow into bruises, and ignoring the constant thoughts of how much worse that truly could’ve been.

He felt steady on his feet, but Ahsoka was at his side in an instant anyways, and despite himself, when she reached a small arm out to his side, he relaxed into it, closing his eyes for a moment while his head finished its swimming.

“Thank you,” he breathed out, once he had enough breath in him to do so, turning his gaze towards Ahsoka.

“No need, Master,” she countered lightly, before a hint of concern leaked into her expression. “Are you feeling okay?”

Obi-Wan laughed—something which made his shoulders cry in protest—and raised a hand, shaking his head. “Just fine,” he promised, knowing already that it probably wasn’t the truth, but that was for the medics to discern later, and for Ahsoka not to worry about right now. “Though I’m glad you’ve already handled that battle droid.”

_That_ made Ahsoka smile again, and Obi-Wan felt his chest lift. “Wasn’t much of a problem at all,” she muttered, smiling to herself, and gave the thing’s metal body a half-hearted kick. “Stupid clanker.”

It was an utterance right out of the vocabulary of a clone trooper, and while normally, he might chide his grandpadawan, remind her of the importance of eloquence, on this occasion, he simply smiled even brighter, dipping his head in acknowledgement. “Stupid clanker, indeed.”

Ahsoka laughed briefly before she fell silent, gaze focused somewhere else, and Obi-Wan was struck with a swelling of emotion, overwhelming in every sense of the word, emotion that he hadn’t felt in a while—emotion, he realized, that wasn’t his _own,_ as he finally followed Ahsoka’s gaze to the light— _light,_ coming in from a new, massive hole in the wall of the room, eclipsed only by a figure Obi-Wan would know anywhere.

_Anakin._

His former padawan surged forward, and before Obi-Wan could truly process the motion, Anakin was somehow at his side, arms wrapped tight around his own padawan—and _Force,_ was that a sight, one that twisted Obi-Wan’s heart, reminded him just how much Anakin had grown, how the nine year old boy he’d taken in had a padawan of his _own,_ now, with all the joys and pains that brought—

“Ahsoka,” he heard Anakin say, pained and relieved and overwhelmed but most of all, muffled from the tightness of their embrace. Ahsoka laughed, quiet but still _her,_ and Obi-Wan felt a trickle of relief.

  
“I didn’t think you’d be _that_ worried, Skyguy.”

Anakin pulled back as though offended, eyes wide as he examined his padawan. “Not worried? Snips, I—” He paused, words stuck in his throat as his gaze fell to his padawan’s wrists, the skin irritated from the pressure of supporting her entire weight. “ _Kriff._ ” Not proper language for a little one to hear, but Obi-Wan remained silent, unwilling to interrupt only to chide his padawan. “We’ve gotta get you to Kix.”

Anakin’s gaze shot up, then, no doubt searching the crowd of clone troopers now steadily pouring into the room for the medic of the 501st—and when his eyes instead found Obi-Wan, the older Jedi found himself freezing in place, watching Anakin hesitate.

There was a time when this reunion would’ve been for the two of them, when they would’ve held one another just as tight as Anakin holds his padawan now. But things have changed. Anakin had a padawan of his own, now—a padawan who deserves his full attention, after everything that had happened, just as Anakin had once had Obi-Wan’s.

So rather than indulge his former padawan’s concern, Obi-Wan smiled, and reached to rest a hand on Anakin’s shoulder, ignoring the ache the movement brought to his poor arm.

“Your Padawan was unspeakably brave, Anakin,” he said softly, and allowed himself to enjoy the burst of pride he could see in the other’s eyes. Ahsoka shied from the praise, and Obi-Wan took her distraction as the chance it was to meet Anakin’s eyes, to be as candid as he could. “Go and find Kix.” Unspoken, but understood— _go. I’ll be alright._

Anakin studied him a moment longer, eyes shining with far too many emotions for Obi-Wan to begin to name—concern, pride, worry, uncertainty—but in the end, he nodded, the very thing Obi-Wan had known he would do. “Yeah,” he said quietly, blinked—and just like that, his certainty returned, gaze meeting Obi-Wan’s intently. “But you get yourself to a medic too, alright?”

The condition was expected, and Obi-Wan smiled. “Of course.” Just this once, just for Anakin, he’ll actually follow through on that promise. “I’ll catch up with you two later.”

Kix, it seemed, had turned the tables and found Ahsoka before Anakin could finish seeking him out. Obi-Wan glanced behind his former padawan, allowing Anakin to follow his gaze, to see his medic already beginning the process of taking his padawan’s vitals—and with one more glance to his master, Anakin turned, moving to Ahsoka’s side.

Obi-Wan allowed himself one moment to watch—Ahsoka, smiling despite all she’d endured, Kix gently wrapping bacta bandages around her wrists, Anakin with a hand on her shoulder looking at once proud and worried, looking like a _master_ did, caring for his padawan—

One moment to watch, and then he smiled a soft, sad smile, and turned.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!!!
> 
> if you want to see me cry about star wars:  
> find me on twitter @G0NKDROID  
> find me on tumblr @dotnscal


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